The Things We Know
by Unoriginality
Summary: An innocent question from Bucky puts Maria having to contact her past, and not all things to know are good. And sometimes, there's questions leftover. And some of those questions can just damn well wait. (A BTWWL fic.)


A look at the clock showed it was officially five in the morning on Sunday, and Maria wondered why she was up so early after a long night of pleasure with Bucky. Well, she could get a shower in before he woke up and took over and maybe have breakfast ready for him. That might be a nice surprise, since he was usually up first.

She quietly slipped out of bed, trying not to wake him, and pulled on her robe.

"Getting up for the day?" Bucky's asked from the other side of the bed, curled up on his right side and eyes still closed.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she said. "I just decided to take a shower before you got up and took over my bathroom."

"Mph." What a coherent reply. "Go shower. I'm not ready to get up unless there's some mission I have to wake up for."

Unsure what he meant by that, she decided to ease whatever nerves had caused that response. She settled back on the bed long enough to kiss his forehead. "No, no missions," she said. "You can get more sleep."

He mumbled something unintelligible, then pulled the covers up over his head. Sometimes he was adorable in a frustrating sort of way, but the human lump he made of himself with the blankets was less of the frustrating and more of the adorable.

Oh Bucky.

She headed in the bathroom, taking her time before finally stepping into the shower. The spray was freezing until the hot water kicked in, and the blessed heat warmed her whole body as she washed. While she washed, she let her mind wander, going over Bucky's words as she did frequently when something new in his head bubbled to the surface and out from his brain to his mouth. Steve had learned his language already, and tried to teach Maria, but all Maria had taken from his lessons was that Bucky had a difficult time translating his thoughts into words.

She wasn't sure why that was, nor why he'd mentioned missions in response to his sleep habits.

By the time she turned the water off, she still hadn't figured it out, but she'd formed a guess, a guess that pointed right at Hydra. Which made her nervous to ask for clarification, nervous to step on an emotional landmine and nervous that he might not be able to answer through no fault of his own.

She returned to her bedroom. "The bathroom's yours," she told Bucky, who poked his head out from under the blankets. He didn't move to get out, watching her dress with an appreciative- if sleepy -look on his face. It didn't take much to give him an enjoyable show, she just had to dress or undress, even when she wasn't taking her time.

Sometimes, it didn't take much to please him.

He got out of bed when she finished changing, rubbing his flesh hand over his face. "All right, I'm up."

"I'll have breakfast waiting. Don't take too long in there."

"I never do," he said, grabbing his overnight bag. He headed out to the bathroom, while Maria split off to go to the kitchen.

Breakfast was actually not done cooking by the time he got out, wet hair pulled back away from his face and clean shaven. She had yet to see him with anything more than a bit of scruff and she preferred it that way. Men with beards made it itchy to kiss them.

"Breakfast waiting, huh?" he said with a teasing grin, dropping his overnight bag by the end of the hall to be grabbed later.

She gave him an insincere glare. "You took less time than I thought you would." She turned her attention back to the food. "I hope you don't mind scrambled eggs and toast. I'm not feeling terribly creative this morning."

"That's okay," he said, sitting at the table. "If I get hungry later, I can make something at home." After a minute, he spoke up, just as she served up the eggs. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Just something on my mind," she said, bringing their plates and forks to the table. "It can wait until you've eaten."

His eyebrows raised. "Something you want to ask me."

"Eat your food, then we'll talk."

Bucky didn't argue, though he flashed her a worried expression every so often, until the food was done and plates cleared away and the skillet washed. She didn't let him help, cleaning the kitchen was part of the cook's job, just the same as when he cooked for her at his own apartment. So he sat patiently in his seat, watching her, which made her nerves rattle around her brain a bit.

Once she was seated again, Bucky leaned back, his hands resting on the table. "So you had a question."

"I do, and it seems like a silly one now that I'm thinking about it," she said. "But I know you'll make me ask it anyway."

"I will."

She folded her hands on the table, considering how to word her question. She was faster with words than he was, but when it came to asking Bucky questions about Hydra, she had to take her time to get the right words. "You said that you weren't ready to get up unless there was a mission waiting. Where did that mindset come from? I can't imagine you thought there'd be trouble this early in my apartment in the Avengers Tower, one of the safest places in the world."

Maria wasn't surprised when his metal index finger started tapping away on the table. A habit he wasn't sure where he'd picked up, but if it helped calm his nerves while he worked on coming up with words, then Maria wasn't going to request he stop. "Hydra, mostly," he admitted, and she couldn't be sure if she picked up on any particular emotion that she'd associate with that answer. "I had it a bit in the Army. When you're in a war zone, you get as much sleep as possible when you have the opportunity. But I guess phrasing it as a mission and being unable to get up until ordered, that's Hydra." He gave her a wry smile. "Even super soldier assassins need to sleep now and again. And cryo wasn't really sleep."

More parts of him that she was learning. More admissions of what Hydra had done to him. He seemed to be getting better about talking to her about it since they spoke about his issues with his arm. Her acceptance of it had loosened his lips a bit.

She reached across the table and rested her hands on his metal hand, stopping his tapping. "Thank you," she said in a quiet voice. "I know you don't like talking about Hydra."

Bucky studied her hands on his. "I'm getting better," he said. "Little things like that don't bother me as much as the big things. I'm still working on those."

"I know," she said. She paused a moment. "What would you like to ask me as exchange?" She knew she didn't have as much baggage to carry around as he did, but he'd asked things before that she'd had trouble answering, her own habits from SHIELD.

He flicked a glance up at her before straightening a bit to look her in the eye. "When do I get to meet your parents?" he asked. "You've met my brother and you know the rest of the Avengers."

That made her pause, then pull her hand back, crossing one arm over the other. On one hand, it was immensely unfair that she hadn't introduced him to her family. On the other, taking the Winter Soldier of all people to her parents' home would only draw negative attention to them, unless they could do it quietly.

She studied the table as she mulled over that, brows furrowed.

"That look makes me think I'm getting kicked out," Bucky interrupted her thoughts. "I guess I asked the wrong question."

For another moment, she didn't answer, then shook her head. "No, not kicked out. Just asked for some space while I consider my answer."

He seemed not one bit upset, to her relief. He stood. "You know I'll answer as soon as you call," he said. "I'll get back home, give you that time. Take as much as you need."

She gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you," she said. "I'll see you when I see you, I suppose."

He walked around the table to kiss her forehead and brush back some of her hair in her face. "Just let me know," he said. How gentle he could be with her. She hoped that they managed to make this relationship last far beyond what it had. She never wanted to have a live-in partner, they'd both agreed to that, but to have someone she could always turn to and actually be honest with was almost the best feeling in the world.

He left, bag in hand, leaving Maria with a dilemma as her thoughts strayed back from him to the problem at hand. Her parents, particularly her father, represented part of her life that she'd willingly hung until it died and thrown it out in the dumpster. She hadn't spoken to them since before Hydra went down, taking SHIELD with it. She wasn't sure how he'd react to her now. While she'd never made an attempt at contacting them, fearing for their safety, they hadn't exactly made any effort either.

She wasn't even sure that they lived in her childhood home, or if they'd moved, that was how long it'd been since she last spoke to them. Genevieve or Lizzy might know, but she wasn't in contact with them, either. In fact, she'd been more attentive to her parents than to her sisters. Time and her job had drifted her away from her family.

Meanwhile, time and torture had separated Bucky from all but one member of his family, and she'd still been introduced to Peter properly.

It ultimately came down not to being unwilling to draw unwanted attention by bringing the Winter Soldier to meet her parents, it was fear that perhaps she'd been disowned for her part in compromising national security.

She was afraid, that's what it came down to.

Thinking about that and attempting to put that fear to rest, she went about her day, cleaning, laundry, the little things that kept her home tidy. It wasn't enough to work off the uncomfortable feelings, so she changed into proper clothes for working in the gym a floor down from the apartments. She didn't know what that floor had been before, but it'd been converted to a place for the Avengers to practice to keep up their skills. In Maria's case, it wasn't keeping up her skills, it was quieting her mind to let the fear she felt go.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been beating the snot out of a punching bag- by the feel of her muscles, probably around forty minutes -before a voice interrupted her by saying her name. She jumped, landing in a ready position to defend herself.

Steve put up his hands in surrender. "Easy. It's just me."

Maria sighed, thunking her head against her stabilized punching bag, her left arm up and resting on the bag above her head. "Don't scare me like that," she said through hard won breaths. Then she half-turned her head and squinted at him. "What was it you were saying?"

Steve lowered his hands. "I was just saying your pretty good at that. I'd hate to see what that thing would look like if it were a person."

She straightened, looking over the punching bag critically. "Probably a lot of bruises," she said. "I wish Bucky had the same attitude about my skills as you do."

Steve frowned, setting a bag with a handful of towels for sweat and cleaning the equipment after he used it. "Are you two arguing over it?"

Maria grabbed a towel from her own bag and wiped her face and the back of her neck. "No, not really. It was just very obvious in the supper club and the next morning when we were talking that he's still holding onto some out of date notions about women. I would appreciate the respect of my skills that I give to his. He admitted the problem, and it's just not come up since then, but short of purposely finding trouble, I'm not sure how to make it sink in his brain."

"You could always drag him down here to observe," Steve suggested, starting to pile weights onto the bench press bar.

"And he'd do exactly what you're doing now and show off that he's still better than me and needs to protect me. How much are you putting on, a thousand?"

"Two," Steve said.

He looked like he was going to say more, but was cut off as she threw up her arms with a disgusted noise. "That's why he doesn't think anyone but you can work with him."

Steve had the manners to look guilty. "That probably doesn't help, no. And you're probably right, he's just as strong as I am and his left arm is stronger. So that may not work." He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder when she sighed in frustration, head resting against her punching bag. "He'll come around. The Avengers can't stay jobless forever, he'll get a chance to see you in action. I'd be very surprised if he doesn't." He dropped his hand and headed back for his bench. "And if you have any issues on the subject, approach him with those. He's more likely to listen when he realizes he's hurting you."

She stared at him as he continued to put weights on the bar- how the hell did that bar not bend or break from the weight? But he made a point, however innocently, that she could approach Bucky with. She'd had her fair share of doubts and ridicule over talents that should've been respected. It still stung that it'd been said that if Fury wanted arm candy, he should've gone with Natasha as his deputy director. As if all she'd bring to the table was looks.

But that really wasn't anything any woman didn't put up with. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, but at least she wasn't alone in it. She wondered if that would be enough to break through Bucky's lingering issues. Maybe, maybe not.

That was grossly off-topic, though. She wasn't there to chat with Steve about sexist attitudes that society had bred into her boyfriend, she was there to let her mind quiet enough to make a rational decision about trying to track down her parents to introduce them to Bucky. Or just track them down in general and re-establish contact before worrying about dragging the boyfriend home to meet them.

The workout had only partially helped, enough to make her courage screw in enough to at least look for them. Contacting them could be the next step to work through.

With a goodbye to Steve, she grabbed her bag and headed back up the elevator to the residential floor her apartment was on. Maybe another shower would help. She needed one anyway.

She tried to do little things around her apartment after her shower again, putting off what she'd decided to do.

"Oh for heaven's sake," she muttered to herself. She grabbed a pen and paper and sat down on her couch. "It's not like I'm contacting them yet." She took a deep breath. "JARVIS, I need you to track down a number and address, if you can."

"That is not beyond my capabilities, Miss Hill," JARVIS replied. "Might I ask whose number I am looking for?"

"Robert and Marilyn Hill. Last known location was the North Center neighborhood in Chicago."

"Searching now."

Maria sat in silence, waiting for JARVIS's results. The longer it took him, the more anxious she got. Had they moved? Had they changed identities to keep themselves distant from her and SHIELD's destruction?

It took JARVIS about two minutes to find results, two long minutes that had ticked by so slow that it'd felt like an eternity. "I cannot find any results for those names in Chicago." She barely had a chance to do more than rest her face in her hands in resignation before he continued. "I traced a Robert Hill back through your birth information and I believe I have found them living in Des Moines, Iowa."

That surprised her. She looked up at the ceiling as if looking for a real person with a face to look back at her. "They left Illinois?"

"It appears so, Miss Hill. Would you like the contact information?"

She fought with herself to answer with a flat yes, her pen poised over paper to write down the number and address that JARVIS provided her with. Her penmanship was sloppy, not at all like normal, but her nerves had her hand shaking slightly. "Thank you, JARVIS."

"You're welcome, Miss Hill."

Maria stared at the phone number and address on the paper in front of her. She knew where they were now. The next thing to try not to have a stroke doing was to contact them. She looked at the table where her phone was, as if it might turn into a snake if she got close enough to grab it. All she could think about was the disappointment in her father's voice that she was sure she'd hear when she talked to him.

She'd never find out if that would be there or not if she didn't call.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered to herself, getting up and grabbing the phone. She dialed the number she'd been given and seated herself at the table.

The phone rang twice, the third ring interrupted as a deep male voice that she recognized as if she'd never lost contact with it answered. "Hello?"

She was committed now. "Hi, Dad."

For a second, she almost thought he'd disconnect the call, he didn't respond. "Maria. Surprised to hear from you."

"Yeah, I um." She struggled to find words that wouldn't get her hung up on. "I wanted to keep you guys out of the spotlight. Keep you safe."

That didn't seem to fool her father, who acted like they'd never lost contact and he still knew her better than to accept that. "Is that all?"

He knew there was more. Of course he did. He was former CIA, you don't get into an intelligence agency by being stupid. She looked down at the paper, wishing she hadn't called. "I- well, SHIELD went down. I- I wasn't really sure what to expect from you after that."

"You thought I'd be disappointed," her father said, keeping a neutral voice.

That tied her guts into an uncomfortable knot. Why was it she could risk getting taken hostage and potentially killed without problem, but simply talking to her own father was making her feel like a five year old hiding under her bed from thunder? "There wasn't any choice," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "Hydra was controlling it. It was the only way to weed them out."

"You were Deputy Director of SHIELD, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"And you plotted to bring down the intelligence agency that you helped direct?"

"Yes."

She held her breath as she waited for her father to say more. "I don't know why you thought I'd be disappointed, baby girl," he said. "You risked everything to save this country. That's something to be more than proud of you for."

She exhaled shakily, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "I thought you would've disowned me for it," she said, voice thick with the threat of crying.

"Don't cry, sweetheart," her father said. "I wouldn't disown you over serving your country to the best of your ability. I just wish one of us had been more willing to contact the other sooner than this."

She wiped her eyes on sleeve. "That was my fault," she said. "I was scared."

"It was just as much mine," her father said. "Don't take all the blame. I had a hunch of where you were, I was just afraid to call you. There was a lot I wasn't sure how it would go."

She sniffed, then tried to bring back a steadier voice. "I guess we know now."

"We do. So what have you been up to the last two years?"

"I work for Stark Industries now," she said, resting her elbows on the table, already feeling better. Just the sound of her father's voice was soothing, like when she was a young girl going through her first heartbreak in high school and he'd put his arm around her shoulders and let her cry without any speeches about letting it go before she was ready. "I work directly under Pepper Potts. She has me working on a few projects here and there."

"Right under Miss Potts's authority," her father said, and she could almost picture the way he'd shake his head in incredulity, his voice holding that pride that she'd heard at her college graduation. "Seems you haven't stopped moving up in the world. What projects are you working on, or does that have to stay a secret?"

"Well, we're still in the clean energy business, and we're starting to work in pharmaceuticals and medical devices. That one's Bruce Banner's fault. We have other projects, some of which I've been told to keep quiet to prevent corporate espionage. I know you wouldn't be a threat, but I've been made to promise, and I'm not going to break that."

"No, no, that would be something that would actually disappoint me," her father said. "So what made you make the leap to Stark Industries? That doesn't seem like your sort of work."

"Part of it was purely mercenary," she admitted. "I needed the company's lawyers to hide behind, and whoever else Tony might throw into the field if the government tried to hold any of us responsible."

"Nothing wrong with turning to friends for help," her father said, sounding amused. "You said only part, though. What else?"

She said back. "Well, I wanted to keep doing good for the world. So I joined the Avengers."

It sounded like it was her father's turn to tear up, but his voice was full of pride. "My baby girl's an Avenger now. I don't suppose you'll come home to show off your new superhero uniform, will you?"

The smile on her face was so wide it made her cheeks hurt. "I don't have a uniform yet. Haven't needed one." She hesitated. Now was another landmine she could be jumping on. "But there is a reason I'd like to come visit."

"You mean besides you missed chess games with your old man?"

That would be good enough for her. It'd be more than good enough. She missed the back and forth of chess with her father. But Bucky had asked, and that had started her on the path to reconnecting with her parents. "That too," she said. "But I'd like you to meet someone."

"You've managed to meet someone when that busy?" her father asked, but he sounded excited over her news. "So what's his name? Or hers?"

"His this time," Maria said. "His name is James. But he prefers Bucky." It was an unusual nickname, and already associated to the Avengers, so she hoped she wasn't going to have to spell it out. Her dad always preferred figuring things out for himself.

"Bucky. As in Barnes?"

"That's him, yes."

"The Winter Soldier?"

There went that carefully neutral questioning again. She moved to cut any potential upset the pass. "Captain America's partner and best friend, yes."

If it'd worked, her father gave no indication that it had. "And you trust him?"

"With my life." There. No hesitation. Let that stop any potential negative reactions.

Her father made a thoughtful noise. "And he makes you happy?"

"Happier than I've been since college," she said. "He's safe, Dad. I know it probably sounds bad, but he was tortured to the point of having no self agency, it wasn't his fau-"

"Settle down, Maria," he said, and she could all but see him raising his hands in a motion that would slow down a child's temper tantrum when she was young, made her stop and start thinking. "I never said anything against him in regards to Hydra. Stark made it very clear that the Winter Soldier was given no choice. And knowing what the public knows about Hydra, anyone who holds that against him is an idiot and lacks basic human compassion. I just wanted to make sure he was making you happy. That's all I've ever wanted for you, Maria. You and your sisters."

She was shaking with relief. "I miss you."

There was a smile in her father's voice. "I miss you too, baby. So when did you wanna bring James home to meet me? I'll make sure your mom's hotdish is ready to show that city boy what real cooking is."

That made her laugh. "Oh Dad, no, not even Mom's hotdish will change his mind about cooking. He's a food snob. Cooked up a feast with two geese and six sides, plus cookies, in three hours for Christmas for the Avengers. And he loved every second of it."

"Good lord," her father said, although something in there sounded off. She couldn't place her finger on it. "Is he a mercenary or a professional chef?"

Maria smiled fondly, the conversation properly turned to be about Bucky. She'd ask her dad about that odd tone later. "He's a lot of things. He and Steve are still in the business, but they're also Avengers, so if we go out, they come with. Bucky was a chemical engineer before the war, worked for Stark Industries as a weapons designer. Now he's updated his degree and works with Bruce in R&D."

"Damn. Does he have any time in that for you?"

"Without fail," she said. "And that's even after volunteering overnights at a homeless shelter for vets. I don't think he's happy if he's sitting still."

"My next question is does he _sleep?"_

"Every now and then," she said. "He's an enhanced human, just like Captain America is. It affects everything, including his sleep and food needs." She paused, glancing up at her kitchen. "Which is a reason Mom might want to just not bother with the hotdish. His metabolism burns between five and six times faster than the normal human's. He could probably down the entire hotdish with her recipe's serving size on his own."

Her father went unnaturally quiet, and the silence unnerved her. "What's wrong?" she asked with trepidation.

"Baby girl, your mama passed away a couple years ago from breast cancer."

Everything in her head stopped, her heart joining her thoughts. When both started again, there was no way to stop the tears that followed. "What? Wh- why wasn't I told?"

"It was so soon after SHIELD went down that I couldn't find you. You'd gone underground. And I knew it'd be risky to try to find you amongst all that. I'd lost one woman in my life, I wasn't going to risk another. By the time I had any hints about where you might be, I just wasn't sure how well this conversation would go."

Maria lifted her head to stare at the ceiling, trying to make the tears give her a break. "I understand." No, she didn't. She didn't understand how she could've let her life drift so far away from her family that she never even knew her mother was sick. But she understood her father's position. She could respect it, though she didn't like it.

"I hope this doesn't mean I don't get to see you and meet your new boyfriend," he said, tone soft and full of tears that had been shed a million times already.

"No," she said. "We'll clear our schedules, I'll let you know as soon as we can when we can visit."

Her father didn't even try to continue the conversation, telling her gently to take her time to cry and they'd talk later. They said their goodbyes and hung up. She stared hard at her phone, still trying to swallow back her grief. She didn't want to be alone right then. She wanted Bucky.

She realized she had no idea if he even had his phone on him, and that he might've gone down to join Steve in the gym. But she didn't care, he'd just have to deal with it. She needed him, and he'd promised he'd be there. She sent a quick text, asking Bucky to come over to her apartment, then laid her head down, face pillowed on her arms. "JARVIS, leave the door unlocked for him," she said, voice strained from the effort to save her crying fit for when she had someone who'd hold her through it.

It took Bucky all of thirty seconds to get there. He must've been home and decided that Maria's text required immediate attention. He apparently didn't even notice that the door was unlocked when he opened the door. "Maria?" He was at her side in four long strides and crouched, putting a hand on her shoulder. "What is it?"

The worried look on his face, the touch of his unyielding but much-loved metal hand on her shoulder, were enough to bring her grief crashing in like a weight. She turned in her seat, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face against his neck, feeling safe to cry until she could find her voice.

Bucky didn't ask what was wrong again, simply held her, his flesh hand rubbing her back and his metal arm gripping her with far more gentleness than it felt like. She barely heard him making soothing noises as she cried. Her mother was gone and she'd never had a chance to say goodbye, never even knew she was sick and the more she thought about it, the harder she cried.

There was no way for her to be certain how long it was until she'd calmed down enough to reduce the tears to sniffles and a need for kleenex, but it'd felt like forever. She sat back, rubbing her eyes with her sleeve. Bucky kept his left hand on her side, his right on her knee. "Sorry," she said. "I just- I needed. ... well, now I need a tissue." She sniffed.

That earned a worried smile. "Stay here, I'll go get you one."

She looked up at him as he got to his feet. "Actually, can we sit on the couch?"

The worry in his smile remained, but it softened slightly, and he reached out with his flesh hand and pulled back some of her hair that tears had stuck to her cheeks. "Wherever you want. I'll meet you there, lemme get that tissue for you."

She sniffed hard a couple more times, nodding once, then got up, leaving him to his search of her linen-and-stuff closet for a new box of tissues. She settled down on the couch, making sure that it'd be more comfortable for him to sit on her right and give her access to his metal shoulder.

That fact didn't escape him when he returned and crouched in front of her again, holding out a box of tissue. "Here." Once she'd taken a couple and blown her nose, he looked at the end of the couch she was sitting again. "You're gonna want to move over if you want me to sit by you."

She shook her head, clutching her tissue. "I want that shoulder."

He looked suddenly uncertain, raising one eyebrow as the other curled into an apologetic look. "Maria, that side isn't a very good pillow."

"But it's yours," she said. "Nobody else has that arm."

That wasn't the most eloquent she'd ever been- it sounded better in her head -but she let it pass. He seemed to understand what she was trying to get at anyway, as he twisted out of his crouch and up onto the couch next to her. She leaned against him as he wrapped his arm around her, the biomechtium plates shifting slightly against her weight. "Thank you."

Bucky's breath was warm as he pressed his face against her hair, holding her, reassuring her of his presence. "Talk to me?"

Giving herself a second to see if she could, she wrapped her arm around his waist, holding onto him like an anchor. "I just found out my mother died two years ago," she said, and the words closed her throat and threatened another crying jag. "I didn't even know she was sick."

Bucky adjusted his grip on her, turning slightly to hold her with both arms, his flesh hand petting her hair. "I'm sorry."

She closed her eyes, taking in the strength of his grip on her, the soft petting of her hair, his entire presence in general. It didn't stop tears from trying to form, but it calmed her down enough that they didn't fall. After a few minutes of letting herself accept the new reality, she took a deep breath and sat up, pulling out of his arms.

He half-turned in his seat to face her, one leg folded up on the couch. "You okay?"

She nodded. "I will be. Thank you. It had just blindsided me, that's all." At the stern look he gave her that said he wasn't buying her 'that's all', her shoulders slumped slight. "Okay, you're right, that's not all." She looked down at her hands. "I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. That's the hardest part."

Bucky's cool metal hand pressed against her cheek lightly. She reached up with both hands to trap it there, closing her eyes. "Dad still wants us to visit, when we can," she said. "He wants to meet you."

"I work tonight at the shelter," Bucky said, "but unless something drags Steve and I out onto the playing field, I can go any time you want."

Oh Bucky. "We can take some time to plan," she said. "We don't have to rush out the door tomorrow."

"Then just let me know when."

"I will."

* * *

Two weeks, they'd decided. That gave Maria plenty of time to get ahead in work and put in for her vacation time. Pepper offered to give it to her sooner, but there were deadlines coming up on a few projects that needed to be sent to testing, and Maria didn't want to leave Pepper hanging.

It was four-thirty in the afternoon on a Friday, the day before she and Bucky left for Iowa- Maria had wanted to fly until Bucky pointed out how much fun the TSA would have with his arm, so they decided on going by train, instead -and Maria was trying to hurry through her rounds as quickly as possible. Friday afternoons meant collecting lab reports from the various projects that the company was working on, and it was tedious work.

Normally, she'd be going in on Monday to start sorting through the reports, weeding out which ones belonged to the company's public interests, and which ones might be served better by being put to use on Avengers projects, all of which were strictly off the record.

Fortunately, Tony had decided to take over the weeding job for her, as long as she rounded the information up. He liked looking at shiny new ideas, but the part she was doing was dull to him. So he left that to her.

Generous. Because it wasn't also boring for her.

She saved Bruce's private lab for last; she knew anything in there was automatically Avengers work and was forwarded to Tony's private databanks when it was ready for testing. She waited patiently as the teleconference system beeped, counting every other second before Bruce answered. Tony was there with him, which made her raise an eyebrow.

"Is this a report I need to collect?" she asked. "Or have you already done it?"

Tony shook his head, playing with a vial of some sort of liquid metal. "Nope. I didn't want to deprive you of the job you love."

"Thank you. I'll find a way to make it up to you later."

That made him grin, which served to further annoy her. "You're welcome! But no, I haven't gone through everything here. Bruce has the data pack ready to send."

"Sending that now," Bruce said, tapping a few buttons on his screen.

"Hey." Maria's computer hadn't even received a request from the lab when Tony spoke up. He held up the vial. "Before you send that," he shook the vial, "what _is_ this, anyway? Is this something in the data pack?"

Had he seriously been playing with a liquid in a vial in a lab without knowing what it was? Maria wanted to reach through the screen and strangle him.

Bruce shook his head. "No. That's one of Bucky's projects. It's liquid armor, meant to be stronger than what we have now. It spreads out the kinetic energy of the impact so that it doesn't just buckle like kevlar does. Reduces how far through the armor the bullet can go."

"Which means less chance of deadly injury," Tony said. "Why hasn't this been submitted yet?"

"He doesn't think it's ready for testing," Bruce said with a shrug. "I've seen the formula, I think it's ready, but he's making it to get into a new uniform for Steve, and you know how he is about Steve's safety. Everything has to be perfect."

Tony frowned. "JARVIS, bring up the data on this stuff. Sorry, Maria, you're going to have to wait a minute." It wasn't anywhere near a full minute as he stared at the screen before he looked back at the vial. "I don't know what he's talking about, this stuff's ready. That formula is brilliant." He set the vial down. "Bruce, add the information on this project to the pack for Maria. I'll get this stuff off to our techs."

Bruce looked at Tony over the top of his glasses. "Bucky's not going to be happy that you ran off with his project without telling him."

"I know." Tony shrugged. "But I may or may not be about to kick a hornet's nest. It may be an empty test, it may just need some spray named Tony Stark's Lawyers. It might require some of the Avengers wearing this stuff, and we won't have time to manufacture enough before then if I don't take it _now._ I don't want him fussing at me, I need room to make this stuff."

"So in other words, don't tell him and keep him out of your hair," Bruce said, not looking up from adding Bucky's project into the data pack.

Maria frowned. "He's not going to be happy about that. Going behind his back with his own work? Isn't that going to undo the work you've done reestablishing trust with him?"

"I know he won't, and this is different," Tony said. "You wanna know why it's different? Because he will thank me later, when this stuff saves the lives of his partner, his girlfriend, and his partner's girlfriend because we had engineered enough in time to give them new uniforms. This isn't personal information I'm taking behind his back, this is potentially the lives of the Avengers I'm taking charge of."

Once the data pack was on its way, Bruce straightened and took off his glasses, looking at Tony. "Not to be the one to notice this and not the rest, but are we really giving an Avengers uniform with Avengers technology to a CIA agent? She may live here and watch out for Steve and Bucky when they go out, but she's still a government spook."

Maria almost felt insulted by the term. She'd spent nearly all of her adult life as a 'government spook'. But she really couldn't say anything against it. Bruce was right.

"Data pack received," Maria said once it'd uploaded to her work computer. "Forwarding it to your private databanks now." The data pack safely on its way, she stayed on the phone, hoping that the men would forget about her and she could gather as much information as she could.

"She's not anymore," Tony said, setting down the vial. "I gave her an ultimatum- she's a full-fledged Avenger and employee of Stark Industries, or she's a CIA agent and can find her own place to live that allows her to keep an eye on Cap and Bucky. And she'll be fighting our technology to do it. She chose the Avengers."

"She's a smart lady," Bruce said, leaning back against the counter.

"I think she got attached to Steve and Bucky," Tony said in a beautiful deadpan voice. He was almost as good at that as Bucky was.

"And me," Bruce added, looking somewhat amused. "I'm not sure why, but she likes to come down here when Bucky and Steve are gone and she can't follow."

Somehow, that didn't surprise Maria. There were times when Sharon showed up at her apartment, looking for company that wasn't infused with high levels of testosterone. Maria wasn't as good of a conversationalist as Sharon, but they managed to fill the time. It was nice to have a female friend to talk to.

"What does she do down here?" Tony asked. "Never shown up with any recorders or anything like that?"

Bruce shook his head. "No, she just wants to talk. I think she gets lonely in this little gilded cage of ours."

"Well, she's an Avenger now, so she should get playtime soon."

Maria's own well-honed sense of cautiousness worried that Sharon had joined the Avengers and was spending so much time in Bruce's lab- and even up in Maria's apartment -gathering intelligence for the CIA. That didn't seem like her style, not a job she'd take, and Maria was very good at telling when someone was pumping her for information and Sharon never had. She honestly did come across as somewhat lonely there in the Tower.

But she'd lived next door to Steve for a year without him realizing she was a bodyguard SHIELD agent.

Not that that meant much. It was Steve.

Maria kept her thoughts to herself; she wanted to trust Sharon, and she liked the woman. And for better or for worse, if Tony was kicking a hornet's nest that turned out to be live, they'd get a chance to see if Sharon was really an Avenger or not.

Maria had an honest gut feeling that she would pull through for them.

Deciding she'd heard all she needed for the moment, not wanting to fill her head too much with stuff to worry about so she could enjoy visiting her father and introducing him to Bucky, she spoke up, letting the men know she was still there. "Forwarding the data is done. I'll leave you to sort this," she said, giving Tony a faint smile, completely benign unless one knew her. "I'm going to clock out for the day and go get ready for a four in the morning boarding time."

"Have fun," Bruce said. "Tell him I'll have a stack of stuff for him to work on when he gets back."

She could tell he wasn't being serious, so she decided to be just as not serious as him. "I most certainly will not. He'll spend the whole time focused on that and not on me."

Tony laughed. "Get out of here. Just don't get into trouble." He pointed a finger at her. "I mean it, no more supper club hostage situations."

"We'll try not to."

Tony gave her a mock dirty look. "Close enough. Go pack, have fun."

With a goodbye, she terminated the connection, turned off her computer, and left her office to go pack and get some sleep before they had to be at the platform. She pushed everything out of her mind and focused on enjoying a trip with Bucky and a visit with her father.

Everything else could wait until she got back.


End file.
